Like a hurricane
by kittyxuchiha11
Summary: Skeletons and ghosts are better left in the closet where they belong. Shut away forever so maybe Claire can actually move on with her life, and not be terrified of any person getting close to her because of what happens when they do.


Her mind is going into overdrive trying to think of a reasonable explanation to why she's feeling the way she is. She knows it's wrong, oh so wrong, and that's why she needs to rule out the one thing her mind is automatically telling her it is.

She's in love. But the thing is, she isn't.

She simply can't be, won't allow herself to be if she really is. She's had her fair share of heartbreak throughout her life, and knows by now to cut off all sorts of feelings before she gets hurt. But it seems her heart has missed the memo this time to do just that. If it had, then she wouldn't be lying awake at 3am staring at the ceiling realising that just maybe what she feels for her friend is a little more than friendly.

A deep sigh escapes Claire's lips as she rolls onto her side, using her left arm as a make shift pillow and reaching for her phone with her right. She reaches blindly to the bedside table, knocking several things over and cringing slightly as they fall to the floor with a soft thud. Claire eventually grasps an object that feels like her phone, and with one press to the side the room is illuminated by the bright screen. She scrunches up her eyes, trying desperately to dim the screen before she actually blinds herself, then brings the device closer to her face in an attempt to focus on the screen.

Amazingly, she actually does have a message waiting for her. She wonders for a moment how she didn't hear it, then remembers her phone has been on silent since she was in that meeting today. It was a meeting with the big shots behind the whole organization who were finally going over the threat of the virus Claire had encountered on that island. How it's taken so long for them to inquire and start asking questions exactly why Terrasave and its operatives were targeted, she doesn't really know or understand. She makes a face before pushing the volume button and un-muting the device so she'll actually know if anyone wants to talk to her.

It's then that she remembers about the message, the little (1) next to the envelope on her task bar does a subtle enough job of reminding her. She's been a little spaced out recently, absent minded if you would. But then who wouldn't be considering everything she'd been through. Apparently thinking your friend is dead for six months while doctors are prodding you with needles every day isn't the best for your mental health. And sure, Moira is indeed alive and knowing that both her and Natalia are safe is a huge relief, yet something still bugged her. It was like that tiny voice at the back of her mind would not shut up about how she should still feel bad for what she had done. But what could she have done really? Moira was as good as dead when she left her. And after all, the younger girl had wanted Claire to get out alive. Even though she knew all of this, it didn't stop her feeling bad about everything that had happened.

She snaps out of her daydream, focusing once again on the screen in front of her and realising the message is in fact from Moira. She checks the time stamp, noticing the message had only arrived about 10 minutes ago. At least she wouldn't be replying several hours later like she has a nasty habit of doing.

'Don't suppose you're awake at this hour?'

Claire reads the text a few more times just checking she'd read it correctly before hitting the reply button and writing a simple message back.

'Only us insomniacs are up at this time; I guess you're in that club now too?'

She closes her eyes after pressing the send button, then holds the phone to her chest as she lets out a deep breath of irritation. Indeed, she should be sleeping, and although recently her and Moira have joked about being in the 'insomnia club' together, she knows it isn't healthy that either of them aren't sleeping as much as they should be. Claire herself has learned how to cope with all the emotions you go through after biohazard outbreaks, but of course Moira is new to this. and Claire is honestly worried sick about the girl. Moira is young and should be been out with her friends, not awake all night because the nightmares are too real that she's scared of going to sleep. Sure, Moira has told everyone she's fine, but Claire can see she definitely is not fine. After all, Claire had been a similar age when she'd experienced the horrors of Racoon City, and although she'd appeared strong, she remembers all the nightmares and terrifying thoughts she just couldn't shake for months.

A soft noise brings her attention back to the object in her hand. Unlocking the screen, she notices Moira has messaged her back. As her eyes read over the text she feels a little uneasy. If that's because of its content, or because this is just Moira, she doesn't know.

'Yeah, the insomnia club is the coolest club to be in. I was asleep, stupid nightmares woke me up again…'

'Want to talk about it? I could call you'

Claire answers, typing as fast as she can so she can't change her mind. It's not that Claire doesn't like Moira, far from it actually. Moira has always been a good friend, Claire's best friend now she really thinks about it. That's quite sad for a woman of her age to have a best friend who is twelve years younger than her, but honestly, she doesn't really mind. People can be as judgmental as they want, but the way she sees it is: you pick your friends, and if people don't like it, they don't have to care.

No, the problem is that although Moira is her friend, she means a hell of a lot more than any friend Claire has ever had. Even Leon or Sherry, who are supposedly her best friends due to everything they went through together, she doesn't even feel half as much for them as she does for Moira. Of course, this is concerning to Claire. Okay, it's way more than concerning, it's damn terrifying. This is a good friend's daughter she's thinking about here, how can she even begin to suspect her feelings are anything more than friendly. Along with the fact she's never liked girls, Claire's always been straight as far as she's concerned.

'No you don't have to do that I'm fine, honestly ?'

Moira replies in record time, which of course makes Claire think the girl is in fact not okay. That as well as the smiley face. Sure Moira is really into her emojis or whatever they're called when she's posting on social media, but she never uses smiley faces when texting Claire, that's of course until now.

'I know when you're lying Moira, always have and always will' Claire types out, stopping for a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing 'I'll call if you want me to, I'm not going to get any sleep any time soon'

She presses send yet again, reading her message over hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as she thinks it does. God, she feels like a love-sick teenager when she talks to Moira. It's stupid, and of course incredibly weird for someone her age, but she can't help it. There's no denying she has a real fondness for the younger girl, and she almost want to beg that that's what all these feelings mean, but she knows deep down she's wrong about that.

Of course having experienced what they did on that island together brought them closer. They were close before and Claire all but wants to admit she cares greatly for Moira, but going through what they did made them develop a sort of bond she can't describe as mere friendship anymore. And in the whole six months they were separated, with Claire under the impression Moira was dead, the pain she felt was unreal. She had felt that same uselessness long ago after she couldn't save Steve. Like she'd failed and all she could do was cry for someone that had died for her sake. Except unlike Steve, Moira is alive and not just a distant memory.

She supposes that's why she feels like this. Moira and Steve have a lot in common, their childishness and the need to rebel being the main points. As Claire watched Moira grow up she was reminded of Steve constantly, and it scared her. At one point, she wondered if maybe she was unconsciously using the younger girl as a substitute for the boy who loved her so long ago. But that was just a silly thought, Steve was a ghost of the past who had haunted her for a long time. Skeletons and ghosts are better left in the closet where they belong. Shut away forever so maybe Claire can actually move on with her life, and not be terrified of any person getting close to her because of what happens when they do.

She was mainly over feeling like this until her and Moira were kidnapped. Then it all came back, all these old feelings of guilt and regret because yet again, she had let someone get too close and they were put in danger and nearly killed because of her. It was the life she lived, she knew that but yet the information never became easier to digest. She had chosen the easier path according to Leon, she wasn't a fighter and he was right. But that didn't mean her involvement in trying to stop bioterrorism didn't come with consequences. She knew that now.

She jumps a little as her phone vibrates in her hand, her ringtone humming softly as it usually does. She's confused for a moment, wondering why on earth someone would be calling her at 3am. That is until she sees who is in fact calling her. She immediately accepts the call, placing the phone to her ear.

"Hey" she attempts to say, having to clear her throat as her voice comes out in a raspy whisper from not being used in a good few hours. "You okay?"

She hears a shuffling sound on the other end of the line, as if someone is nodding, before just the person she was thinking of speaks up. "Yeah…" Moira answers softly, sounding distracted. Claire knows that feeling all too well.

"I thought I was supposed to be calling you?" Claire replies, trying to sound a little smug and teasing, knowing that Moira likes it when Claire isn't so proper and formal with her.

"I just…fuck, okay. I'm gonna sound totally shit and like I'm some stupid kid, but I just wanted to hear your voice"

Claire is speechless for a moment, wondering just how long Moira has been awake since she's very clearly been thinking about Claire just as much as Claire has been thinking about her.

"That's okay" Claire replies back smoothly, deciding now is not the best time to try think of a smart come back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…yeah I'm fine. I just-" Moira makes an irritated noise "I'm so fucking sick of this shit. Like how the hell do you put up with all these stupid nightmares and the stupid anxiety shit?"

Yet again, Claire doesn't know what to say. Is she supposed to tell the younger girl that you just get used to it? or the truth that no matter how long it's been, the nightmares always come back to haunt you. Of course Claire's most recent nightmares have been about Moira and when she'd left her to die, but she doesn't really want to share that information with Moira. Not because she thinks it would upset the girl, she knows Moira is perfectly fine with what happened back there. But because she doesn't want to make herself sound like the victim here. She's older, and someone Moira looks up too, and as cliché as it sounds she doesn't want to display that sort of weakness in front of her.

"Hey, Claire?"

Claire's brought back to reality by Moira's voice once again. She makes a small noise of agreement as if to tell Moira she's still there. She would try to say something, but her mind is completely blank on how to approach this situation. Which was incredibly stupid she knows because Moira needs her right now.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd be up at this time" Moira says, obviously sensing how awkward Claire's feeling about this by the fact she hasn't said anything. That's one of the things Claire loves about Moira, the fact that she can just talk her way out of any situation.

"I'd rather be sleeping" Claire replies, sighing softly as she turns back onto her back.

"So would I, but that breaks the rules of the insomnia club" Moira says, the grin evident in her voice. Claire snorts, a smile spreading across her face to match Moira's. It isn't even particularly funny or that much of a reason to smile, but these days Claire takes the bursts of happiness whenever they appear.

"So um, metaphorically speaking…what would you do if I was outside your house right now?" Moira suddenly says, sounding nervous.

It's then that Claire finally places that background noise that she keeps hearing when there's a silence between the two. It's the wind, of course it is.

"Please tell me you're just standing by an open window or something"

"Uh, well…"

Claire groans slightly, kicking the covers away and swinging her legs over the side of her bed as she sits up.

"I knew showing you where I was staying was a mistake"

Moira just laughs, making Claire crack a small smile once again. She probably should be annoyed, especially since Barry will probably want to murder his daughter for walking all the way across town at 3am, especially since it's to see Claire. The two may seem to be on okay terms, but Claire can tell Barry still holds something against her for even encouraging Moira to just join Terrasave in the first place.

"Hold on, I'll let you in"

Claire says into the phone as she places her feet on the ground, stretching briefly before she gets up and begins to make her way towards the front door. She isn't staying in her apartment at the moment, and she's honestly she's glad of that, or Moira would have had a much longer walk. She's staying in an old friend's house who told her she could stay there if she ever needed to hide out. Her having to actually hide out anywhere doesn't happen very often because honestly, in her line of work most of their enemies were grumpy old politicians that were all bark and no bite. But since she and her co-workers were actually kidnapped, and the fact everyone knows who she is, she decided it was better to hide out here. Not because she's worried the hired suits will come looking for her, more just because she's tired of action and just wants to be able to at least try to relax a little.

This is both a good and bad thing for Claire. Good because she's away from the busy city she's used to living in, and that definitely helps her stress levels. Bad because in the six months it took to track down where her and Moira had been, Barry was right across town from her. She avoided the man as well as she could, being in quarantine for the first few of those six months helped that. But obviously when he turned up at the house and asked her all sorts of questions about what had happened, she couldn't simply ignore him and go back to living her life. She helped him out as much as she could, but she could see just from looking at the older man that he wasn't thrilled to be talking to her. She understood perfectly why as well, imagine one of your closest friends had been the reason your daughter had been kidnapped and probably killed.

Claire shakes the thoughts from her head, coming back to reality to realise she'd been standing in the hallway facing the front door with her phone still pressed to her ear.

"…Claire?" She hears Moira say, Claire hearing the girl's muffled voice through the door as well as through the speaker on her phone.

"Uh, yeah. I'm here, sorry" she mumbles, quickly walking the distance to the front door.

"Could you hurry up? I'm freezing my fucking ass off out here"

Claire undoes the two locks on the upper door before she turns the keys, successfully unlocking the door with a quick tug down on the door handle. Maybe she is a little paranoid after everything she's been through, but at least the many locks on the door make her feel a little safer.

The door opens to reveal a rather cold looking Moira, actually shivering from her typical lack of sensible clothing. She flashes Claire a smile, which instantly falls when she notices the tight frown on the older woman's face.

"What's wrong?"

"Did you really have to pick the shortest pair of shorts you owned in the middle of winter?"

Moira rolls her eyes, stepping forward and making sure to elbow Claire on her way past her into the house. Claire smiles, closing the door after her visitor and of course fastening all the locks once again.

Claire wanders into the living room to find Moira with the thin woollen blanket that's always draped over the back of the sofa around her shoulders. She hasn't bothered to turn on the main light to the room as the light streaming in from the hall is enough to see around her. Claire just stands there for a moment, almost as if in a trance as she looks at the younger girl. The light just seems to frame Moira's features perfectly, and honestly Claire can't make herself look away even if she wants to.

Moira sighs, closing her eyes as she leans back against the sofa, looking a lot happier now she isn't standing outside Claire's window. She probably was literally 'freezing her ass off' out there dressed in what she's wearing. Now, Claire does have to admit Moira does have a very nice body. so of course she wants to wear clothes that show it off. She just wishes she wouldn't do it in the middle of winter. There have been many times when they've been out together, and she's seen guys ogling at her friend. She always put it down to the fact that Moira is younger, and she wants to protect her that the guy's stares always bother her so much. But with everything in her head just now, she's starting to realise maybe it isn't just because of that.

"Claire"

"Uh huh?"

"You're staring at me again"

Claire flinches as she realises she's been so deep in thought she's managed to not only miss Moira opening her eyes and looking at her, but also the younger girl actually talking to her. She quickly looks away, moving a few stray strands of hair out of her face as a sort of distraction to herself as she mentally kicks herself. Moira is going to think she's losing it just staring at her like that. Not that the staring is a particularly new thing to them both, Claire is pretty sure Moira has caught her staring openly at her a few times now.

"So, how long have you been awake?" Claire asks, desperately trying to make conversation to resolve the awkward silence that's fallen upon them.

"Don't know" Moira answers with a shrug "Since about one, I think"

"I had a late night at the office so I didn't get in until 11" Claire replies, her eyes wandering over the shadows in the room scanning for any sort of danger, just out of habit more than anything.

"You're gonna to work yourself to death one day" Moira says with a smile, obviously trying to make a joke and brighten up the conversation. It doesn't work though, they both look away as another silence overtakes them.

"Wait" Claire says, suddenly realising something "How long were you waiting outside for?"

Moira bows her head and mumbles her reply "Since about two maybe…"

Claire groans, leaning back against the door frame and closing her eyes for a moment "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"I didn't know if you were asleep. I was just gonna go for a walk if you didn't reply. You know, clear my head and shit, needed the fresh air anyway"

Claire stands up straight once again, and turns to face Moira properly as she tries to look at her through the darkness. "You're okay though, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. I went to bed at 12, thinking if I went to bed early-ish I might actually sleep but then-"

Claire waits for Moira to finish her sentence, but she doesn't. She's looking at her hands, fidgeting nervously. It's become a habit of hers lately Claire has noticed. It's a bit weird since she's used to seeing Moira as such an outgoing loud person. There's always a slight nervousness about her now. Although Claire doesn't really expect any less than that.

Moira had been on that island for six long months fighting for her life. It was no wonder she was showing some signs of anxiety, and probably various other disorders that a psychologist would diagnose, that was if she ever went to one of course. Moira has always been stubborn, and when she had her mind set on something it is not easy to try make her change it. She claims she's fine, Claire of course knows she isn't, but feels it isn't exactly her place to say.

"Moira?" Claire asks softly, slowly making her way over to the sofa and sitting down next to the girl carefully. Moira jumps when she hears Claire's voice, her head snapping towards the noise. Their eyes meet then, and Claire almost feels her heart shatter as she sees the haunted look in her friend's eyes. Her eyes are glassed over, tears threatening to spill as the fear shines brightly in the little light the room has to offer.

"They're really bad sometimes" Moira eventually says, her eyes not leaving Claire's. "I remember every little fucking detail and I hate it"

"Moira…"

"It's so fucking stupid. I want to be able to do normal shit like go out without having a fucking panic attack every time"

Claire bites her lip, not knowing what to say to even try to calm Moira down. Although Claire definitely wouldn't describe herself as someone who likes physical contact, she knows sometimes a simple touch is the best thing for someone who's hurting. She likes to think she just isn't a touchy type of person by nature, but she knows that she's this way because of the fact she's spent so long trying to avoid getting close to people. It's what you do when everyone who's ever gotten close to you ends up dead.

Claire slowly reaches out and covers Moira's slightly shaking hands with her own. She flashes her friend a small smile of reassurance, hoping even a small gesture like this will give some sort of comfort.

"Thanks for this, by the way" Moira suddenly says, sounding a little nervous as her eyes meet Claire's.

"For what?"

"This" She says softly, her eyes flickering from Claire's to where their hands are connected. "being here for me and shit"

"Moira." Claire says with a soft frown, giving Moira's hands a quick squeeze before withdrawing her own. "You know everyone is there to talk if you need to"

"You're the only one I want to talk to though. You actually understand everything"

Claire just looks at Moira, not entirely sure what to say, especially since the first response that comes into her head is one Moira definitely doesn't want to hear. "…Barry understands, and he is your dad, Moira"

"I…" Her head snaps up and her eyes are on Claire's with a strange look in them, something Claire can't read at all. "I don't wanna worry him anymore…life at home is really weird just now"

"How?"

"It just- it just fucking is, alright? Mom keeps looking at me like she's scared I'll disappear again if she looks away, and Polly is being super weird, like really fucking weird, hugging me all the time and shit. And Barry- fucking Barry won't leave me alone! I get it, he's my dad, but he needs to chill the fuck out and let me lead my own damn life again"

"Moira…" Is all Claire can think to say. A silence stretches out between them, and Claire can't bear to see that broken look on Moira's face. "They're all just worried about you, they want to protect you"

"And what if I don't want them to protect me, huh? What if I just want to lead my own fucking life without any of this shit" She sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping before she looks up at Claire with this incredibly vulnerable look that Claire has never seen before. "You get me Claire, they don't. They're tip toeing around me, scared I'll shatter like some shitty glass ornament if they get too close. But you Claire." She reaches out and touches Claire's arm gently. "you're not like that, never have been"

Claire doesn't know what to do. Her mind is reeling with what to do, what to say, how much she wants to kiss Moira and tell her it will be okay. She's trapped in her own perpetual spiralling thoughts, so much so that she doesn't notice Moira slowly edging closer to her. In fact, she only notices Moira has moved at all when she feels the younger girls hand slowly trailing up her arm. Their eyes meet, and Claire's stomach has never flipped so hard in her entire life.

"Moira…"

Moira just tilts her head slightly, and searches Claire's face for something. Claire feels like a deer in headlights, her eyes feeling almost comically wide as she stands there with her heart in her throat. Moira blinks once, twice, then finally looks away, not moving away but still making Claire feel slightly more at ease.

"Claire? Can I…can I stay here tonight? Barry will flip if he catches me sneaking back in"

It takes a moment for the words to actually make sense in Claire's sleep deprived brain, but when they do, she rushes into action, trying incredibly hard to push back any thoughts about having Moira in her bed. "Uh, yeah, sure. Bedrooms upstairs" she says dumbly, pointing to the stairs like a child.

Moira flashes her an amused smile, going to move past Claire, but then she stops. She looks back at her, and it's only then that Claire realises she's holding her arm.

"…Claire?" Moira asks softly, her eyes now full of curiosity and confusion as they meet Claire's. Claire has no idea what she's doing, why she's doing it. She should just let Moira go upstairs to bed and sleep on the sofa, it's what she planned to do. So why is she doing this?

Moira's eyes soften as she seems to suddenly understand why Claire is holding her arm like this. She moves her arm slightly which manages to snap Claire out of her thoughts and make her let go. She's expecting Moira to just say something like that she shouldn't worry about her, or maybe that she isn't a kid and doesn't need Claire worrying about her too. What Claire isn't expecting is for Moira to wrap her arms around her and bury her face in Claire's neck. She freezes, staying completely still and just listening to Moira's breathing, her mind desperately racing to why Moira would suddenly hug her. She doesn't seem to be upset, she seems really calm from her breathing…so why?

"Moira?" Claire asks, her voice low and quiet, her fingers twitching as the urge to hug the younger girl back is growing stronger by the second. Moira leans back slightly, just enough so that their eyes meet, and Claire has to use all her power not to look at Moira's lips. They both just watch each other for a moment, neither wanting to break the silence. Eventually Moira does.

"This is nice, y'know?"

"…What?" Claire asks, confused not only by Moira's tone, but by the strange look in her eyes.

"This, the hugging and shit…do you remember when you met me outside of quarantine when I was cleared? You looked, like so fucking sad, and like the whole world ending. And then you hugged me so tight, like so tight I didn't think you'd ever let go…I didn't want you to let go, Claire"

Claire's arms unconsciously seem to snake around Moira's waist as she's talking, squeezing slightly when Moira's voice wavers on her name. Claire's thoughts are still a mess, but she knows she needs to be here for Moira now and hold her. Hold her like she did on that day they were reunited, like the day after quarantine when she held her in her arms for a good few minutes and just told her how sorry she was. Like the first night Moira had stayed over and had a nightmare, and like the time in the mall when Moira was shaking like a leaf from the panic. Claire may not like contact, but for Moira, she feels she can overcome it easily.

"I won't" she finds herself whispering, seeming to surprise them both because Moira's eyes widen slightly when she hears it. She just stares at Claire for a moment before hugging her tighter, tucking her head into Claire's neck and inhaling her safe, familiar scent. Claire can't help but smile, actually, properly smile when she feels Moira try move closer to her.

She still can't think straight, still has no idea what she's supposed to do about these feelings. She doesn't know why she's even doing this, but deep down she really does. She's in love, she doesn't want to be, but she is. Moira Burton came into her life like a hurricane, changed everything that felt once safe, and now won't leave. Claire is stuck with her, and maybe, just maybe that isn't an as bad thing as she first thought.


End file.
